


Inked In Each Other's Skin

by danceinstylinson



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, ficadayinmay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:51:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceinstylinson/pseuds/danceinstylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of this <a href="http://struttinglikeprongs.tumblr.com/post/84465703085/parnela-lansbury-kenezbian-soulmate-au-where"> post.</a></p>
<p>Soulmate AU where on their fifteenth birthday, people wake up with the first words their future soulmate will say to them tattooed on their body. </p>
<p>Ian doesn't think his tattoo makes sense. Mickey doesn't believe in soulmates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inked In Each Other's Skin

**Author's Note:**

> So I've actually been wanting to write a little soulmate AU thing for a while. And at first I was going to do one where they wake up with the name of their future soulmate tattooed on them but then i was like eh that's too easy, like how many other Ians or Mickeys would they know?? But then I saw this post on tumblr and it was sooo perfect and I wrote up some ideas in the tags and then I just got so inspired so yeah I wrote it and now it's a thing and I hope you enjoy it. xxxxxxx

Ian stared at the inside of his wrist, tracing over the words inked into his skin. It had been months since his fifteenth birthday, months since the tattoo had first popped up. He still didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand how these were the first words his _soulmate_ was going to say to him. He’d been dreaming of getting his tattoo since he was little, since he first learned about soulmates. Ian was a romantic. He _liked_ the idea of having this one person out there in the world destined to be with _him_ forever. But his tattoo made no sense. In tiny, scratchy writing _IAN GALLAGHER!!! You messed with the wrong girl!_ stared up at him. First of all, why would he be messing with some girl? He was gay. He’d known that for a long time now. Second of all, it sounded like Ian was supposedly messing with _this guy’s_ girl. Needless to say, his tattoo had kind of been a disappointment. He’d been expecting something romantic, something like those cheesy lines in movies. But his sounded more like a fight, like a confrontation. It sounded like his soulmate _hated_ him. 

“Ian?” 

Ian snapped his head up, coming out of his thoughts. Kash stood over him, eyes full of concern. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Ian said quickly, replacing his watch over the words on his wrist. “Fine.” 

Kash stared at his watch. “Is that—“ 

“I’ll go restock the produce,” Ian said cutting him off. He’d never told Kash about his tattoo and frankly he really didn’t want to talk about it. He knew Kash wasn’t his soulmate. He was fine with that. But he still didn’t want to go have deep discussions over who his soulmate might be. Not even Lip knew about Ian’s tattoo, despite all his attempts to get Ian to show him. Ian preferred to keep it to himself. He’d find out who it was eventually. 

***

Ian knew what was happening as soon as Mandy ran out of his house crying. _This was the girl_ , he thought. _Shit. Mandy Milkovich_. Someone was going to fucking come after him for ‘messing with’ Mandy Milkovich. That could be anyone. Old boyfriend. Current boyfriend. Ian stared back down at his wrist, read over the words half a dozen times. And then it hit him. The words weren’t just angry, they were _protective_. Ian had had it wrong all along. It wasn’t some boyfriend coming after Ian for messing with his girl. It was…it was someone coming after Ian for messing with _family_. His eyes widened. A Milkovich. How many brothers did she have again? Shit. 

He hardly slept that night. The next day, he went to work as usual, fucked Kash, started stocking the shelves. He was completely on edge, even Kash noticed, had tried to get him to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk. He was either wrong about Mandy being the girl and he was going to get killed by a Milkovich. Or he was going to meet his soulmate…and still possibly get killed by a Milkovich. 

Ian shoved two more gallons of milk on the shelf and tried to relax. It everything was going to be fine—

The bell above the door chimed and Ian snapped his head towards it. Three figures barged through the door and then, the words that had been playing in his head for months came booming towards him. “IAN GALLAGHER!” Fuck. It was Mickey. It was _Mickey Milkovich_. “You messed with the wrong girl!” Fear won out over everything else, and Ian bolted towards the storage closet, locking the door behind him. Mickey and the other two Milkovich brothers banged against the door. “Mandy told us what you did you piece of shit!” 

_Nice_ , Ian thought. _This is my fucking soulmate._

_“_ GET OUT HERE!” Mickey screamed. 

Ian winced as Mickey smashed against the door again. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

And then he heard Kash’s voice come into the mix. “He’s gone,” Kash said. “There’s a door in the back of the store room.” 

“ALLEY! ALLEY!” Mickey shouted. And then to Kash, “You tell _fuckhead_ this is not over.”  

_Great, my soulmate wants to fucking_ kill _me_. It was just Ian’s luck. 

Once the coast was finally clear, Ian emerged from the storage room. “Hey you oka—“ 

“Fine,” Ian huffed, shoving past Kash. He continued restocking the shelves and keeping to himself for the rest of his shift. Then it hit him, _Mickey was gay_. Hard-ass thug, Mickey Milkovich. Maybe this soulmate stuff was wrong. Maybe it was all just bullshit. Maybe there’d been some kind of mistake. But no, Ian thought, pressing his thumb against the scribbles of black ink on the inside of his wrist. The words were right there, there was no mistake. Mickey had said those exact words. 

Later that night when Kash snuck him out after his shift he tried to act like he wasn’t thinking about Mickey being his soulmate. “I should’ve just fucked her,” he said.

Kash gave him some bullshit about being something you’re not. Ian scoffed at that. Kash was sure one to talk. Mickey might be a total closet case but at least he wasn’t fucking married. Ian tried not to think about it too much. He didn’t like reminding himself that he was nothing but a dirty secret. 

 

When he got home, Lip was already upstairs, his face covered in cuts and bruises. “Shit.” 

“Mickey Milkovich,” Lip said. “He was looking for you.” 

“Yeah I know.” 

“Looks like he’s out there,” Lip said leaning forward to peer out the window. They could hear Mickey’s voice shouting questions at Steve. Ian leaned forward with Lip and then Mickey was whipping his head around to face them. They both stumbled backwards as Mickey called out to Lip. 

“Tell your shithead brother we’re waitin’ for him!” 

They waited a moment, and then there was nothing but silence. 

“Sorry your face got busted up,” Ian said. 

“’S okay,” Lip said, lighting his cigarette. 

“I didn’t _do_ anything to Mandy,” Ian explained. It was stupid, Lip already knew Ian wouldn’t have done anything to Mandy. 

“Eventually, you’re gonna have to take the beat down for this, you know.”

Ian sucked in a breath. “Yeah,” he said. “I know.” Soulmate or not, he was still going to have to deal with this. He laid down on his bed, completely exhausted. Some fucking day it had been. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it though. Mickey Milkovich, his soulmate. He couldn’t picture them being together forever. Hell, he couldn’t even picture them being _together_ , period. 

 

The next day Ian woke up early. He was just going to face Mickey head on. Hopefully this soulmate crap wasn’t bullshit and hopefully whatever Ian said to Mickey would already be tattooed on Mickey’s skin. Hopefully Mickey would realize who Ian was and maybe, you know, not kill him. Maybe. 

What he didn’t expect was for Mandy to come walking out of the house. He didn’t expect to come out to her either. But it’s what he did. And Mandy called off her brothers, and things went back to normal, and he still hadn’t spoken a word to Mickey Milkovich. 

 

***

The whole soulmate thing was a crock of shit as far as Mickey was concerned. The Milkoviches didn’t _do_ soulmates. His dad had never even gotten a soulmate tattoo. Neither had his brothers. And if Mandy had one, he didn’t know. So when his had a turned up a year ago he thought, hell this _bullshit_. It still didn’t stop him from reading it over and over until he had the words memorized. The first words his fucking _soulmate_ would ever say to him. And he knew, deep down, no matter how much he tried lying to himself, that those words would come from a guy’s mouth. 

He kept his tattoo hidden, it was on his lower hip so thankfully hardly anyone would ever see it. _Hey Mickey, why don’t you steal from a neighborhood you don’t live in?_ The words constantly played in his head as much as he tried to convince himself that it was all bullshit, that Milkoviches don’t get soulmates. He stole from a lot of people, from a lot of stores. Sometimes he tried to look out for who it might be, but most times he tried not to think about it (that never worked). He just hoped it wasn’t that fucking towelhead from the Kash ’n’ Grab. He looked kinda faggy, and fuck everything if it ended up being him. 

He’d had the tattoo for over a year now though, and still nothing. Maybe it would be a dozen more years before he finally met the guy—person. Fuck. He didn’t even _believe_ in soulmates. It was stupid. Why would anyone want to spend their whole fucking life with one person? Why’d people want to fall in love? And really, he’d be a shit soulmate. He felt sorry for whoever the sorry fucker was who got stuck with him. 

***

That Gallagher kid was always with Mandy now, they were practically attached at the fucking hip. Mickey didn’t get it. One minute Mandy wanted him dead and the next she was telling him to lay off him and that they were ‘together’. Fuck that. And if Mickey was a little jealous, well, no one had to know. 

Still, Mickey couldn’t get the dumb fucking ginger out of his head. He worked at the Kash ’n’ Grab. He worked at a store he frequently stole from. He was suspiciously dating his sister when Mandy didn’t ‘date’ anyone. Mickey only let these thoughts push their way to the surface when he was in bed, late at night when everyone else was asleep and the house was quiet. It was the only time he felt safe enough to think these kinds of things. He still felt ashamed though as he wrapped a hand around his cock and jerked off to thoughts of the redhead. Fuck. It was stupid. It wasn’t Gallagher. That kid was totally out of his league. He bit his lip as he came and then he rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow. He felt disgusting. He felt like trash. That stupid kid deserved better. He wasn’t his soulmate. He punched at the pillow. Over and over until his arm grew tired. _He wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t._

Mickey showed up at the Kash ’n’ Grab the next day anyway. In the daylight, all his vulnerabilities were tucked away, all his shameful thoughts buried in the back of his mind. He wasn’t there for Gallagher, he told himself. He just wanted to steal some shit. 

He walked in like he owned the place. Kash ’n’ Grab sat behind the register. Mickey shot him a look before heading over to the chips. He gathered up all his shit, and gave the store a quick look around. Gallagher was nowhere to be found. Which was fine. Good. Perfect. Not like he cared anyway. Mickey smirked as he strutted back over to the register and snatched the box on the counter, loading it up with all the stuff he’d just taken. Kash ’n’ Grab just watched, fucking sat there and watched. Fucking pussy, Mickey thought. The guy didn’t even have the balls to try and stop him. Mickey turned to leave and still nothing. It was too fucking easy. “Heads up man,” Mickey said, turning back, “you’re out of barbecue pringles.”He turned back and walked out, the stupid fucking door bell jingling after him. 

_Well that was a bust_. No Gallagher, and he couldn’t even get a rise out of towelhead. What even was the point. 

Mickey glanced back at the shop. Through the front window he could see Gallagher now standing in front of the counter, talking to Kash ’n’ Grab. Mickey smirked and turned around. The bell jingled again as he walked back into the store. He walked past Gallagher, heading to the back to grab some random shit. The first thing he spotted was some dip. Perfect. He walked right back, waving the dip at them. “I forgot the dip,” he said, taunting them. _Come on, come on, come after me_. 

He didn’t think it would work, but then that stupid bell was jingling again, and Ian Gallagher was calling after him. “Hey, Mickey.” Mickey froze, the words on his hipbone flashing before his eyes. The words he had memorized. _Hey Mickey, “Why don’t you steal from a neighborhood you don’t live in.”_ He turned slowly and then realized that the rest of the sentence had just come out of Gallagher’s mouth. “Have some civic pride, huh,” he continued. 

Mickey didn’t know what the fuck to do, because hell, he never actually thought it would happen. Hoped, maybe, just a little. But he’d never actually _believed_ that this would happen. Milkoviches didn’t get soulmates. Mickey wasn’t worthy of a soulmate, let alone this kid. And so he did the only thing he knew how to do: be aggressive and try and push this kid away. He grabbed the dip and threw it right at him. Gallagher cursed as he ducked, and then Mickey turned away. “You know where I live if you have a problem.” He meant for it to sound threatening, but in the end it sounded more like an invitation. _Well fuck it_ , Mickey thought. If they really were soulmates then Ian should know by now too. 

***

Mickey was being a little shit and Ian didn’t know what to do about it. Like yeah, sure, okay they were soulmates, but he didn’t know shit about Mickey. And he _liked_ Kash. And Mickey was being a dick to Kash. But Mickey was his _soulmate_. Needless to say, Ian was a _bit_ conflicted. He needed to get the gun back though. And maybe confronting Mickey once and for all wouldn’t be so bad. Except Mickey wasn’t home. Ian barged into the Milkovich house, pushing past Mandy. If he could just find the damn gun…

“Mickey will kill you!” _Not likely_ , Ian thought as he flipped over a couch cushion. “What do you want?” Mandy shouted. Ian continued to rummage through Mickey’s dresser in search of the gun. “IAN!” 

“He hit Kash, okay?” Ian said quickly. 

“Just— go. I’ll put everything back,” Mandy said, shoving Ian towards the door. 

“Tell him it ends now. No more messing with Kash. And tell him I want the gun back. Tonight.” 

Ian stormed out of the house, running a hand through his hair. Why were things so fucking complicated? Why did his soulmate have to be a total _dickhead_? I mean really, this whole drama with Kash was just so— childish. Unless…Mickey was _jealous_. But no, there’s no way Mickey knew about him and Kash. It was so stupid. He just needed to get he gun back and sort things out with Mickey and they needed to have an actual conversation or something because…soulmates. 

 

Mickey didn’t return the gun. Mickey was still being a dickhead. And that meant Ian was once again standing outside of the Milkovich house, gathering up the courage to go inside. He glanced around, looking for something he could use as a weapon. His eyes fell on a tire iron leaning against the steps. He grabbed it quickly and turned back to the door, slowly creaking it open and tiptoeing inside. The house was quiet, the only noise came from the couch where Terry Milkovich lay snoring, passed out in a drunken stupor no doubt. Ian slowly made his way across the room over to Mickey’s bedroom door. He carefully slipped inside and then shut the door behind him. Probably not a good idea if he needed to make a quick exit, but whatever. Ian glanced across the room to where Mickey lay sleeping in his bed. He could just look for the gun. But no, he needed to confront Mickey once and for all. He crossed the room hesitantly and reached out to poke Mickey in the back with the tire iron. 

Mickey groaned and began to stir. “What the fuck?” he said, turning over to face Ian. 

“I want the gun back,” Ian said, trying to keep his voice level, trying his best not to sound nervous or afraid. This was his soulmate, he kept telling himself. _He won’t hurt me_. 

“Gallagher?” Mickey asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. 

“The gun,” Ian demanded, pointing the tire iron at him. 

Mickey rubbed his eyes. “Alright, alright.” He reached for his night stand, and Ian relaxed a little. Alright, Mickey was cooperating. The next thing he knew he was being thrown against the wall.Ian groaned as he fell back onto the bed, Mickey hopped on top of him before pulling him into a headlock. Ian quickly recovered from the shock and began fighting back, pushing Mickey off him and onto the couch. They were both panting now, and then Ian was being thrown back onto the bed, scrambling for the tire iron, Mickey pining him down and taking it from him with little effort. Mickey straddled him, his thighs framing Ian’s face, both their chests rising and falling with quick, ragged breaths. Mickey held up the tire iron and Ian thought oh how wrong he had been about everything. _Mickey was going to kill him, Mickey was going to bash his head in with a fucking tire iron, Mickey was_ — getting hard. Ian looked up at Mickey with wide eyes and watched as Mickey slowly let the tire iron drop to his side with a metallic clang. Ian’s eyes followed the tire iron before coming back up to look at Mickey. He was staring down at him, eyes just as curious, just as intent. And then Mickey was scrambling to get out of his shirt, and Ian knew that this was it. There wasn’t going to _be_ any conversation. They were just going to be. They weren’t going to talk about the words etched on each others’ skin. They were going to undress each other in a frenzy and they were going to press their bodies against each other until there was hardly any room to breath, and they were going to fuck and it was going to feel better than any other fuck they’d ever experienced. 

***

Mickey felt free. He didn’t want to be fucking cliche and sappy but he felt something he’d never felt before. Ian laid next to him under the sheets, their shoulders pressing together, and Mickey felt free. He felt naked and exposed more than in just the physical sense. This kid laying next to him was his _soulmate_ , whatever the fuck that meant. This kid was going to be in his life forever. He glanced over at him, he wanted to say something, anything, but he didn’t know how or what even to say. Part of him really felt like apologizing to the kid, telling him _‘Hey man look I’m sorry you got stuck with me. You don’t have to stick around. It’s cool._ ’ But another part of him really just…a part of him just wanted this kid to actually _want_ to be with him. Either way, any words that he might have said died before they could ever make their way out because his dad walked in and everything seemed to stop. Mickey held his breath as his dad walked passed to the bathroom and took a piss. Terry was going to fucking kill him. Kill both of them. It would be Mickey’s luck, to finally find his soulmate, someone who might actually care about him, only to be killed by his own father. Mickey had always been fucked from the start so he wasn’t really surprised. He was, however, surprised when all Terry had to say was, “Put some clothes on. You two look like a couple of fags,” before walking out without another word.

 Ian slumped back against the pillows in relief, while Mickey eased back and glanced over at Ian. “ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed. So far, Mickey was defying a lot of odds with this kid. 

A few minutes later, they were both out of bed, getting dressed. Mickey reached into his dresser and pulled out the gun. Stupid fucking Kash ’n’ Grab’s gun. He knew that fucker was sleeping with Ian. He could see it in their faces when they were together, like they had a secret to keep. Mickey knew a lot about keeping secrets. He tossed the gun onto the bed while Ian zipped up his pants. Ian glanced at it and the back to Mickey. His stupid freckly face suddenly went all soft, and instinctively Mickey retreated, his finger rubbing against his bottom lip, something he did when he was nervous. He stepped back as Ian took a step forward, leaning in. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be this kid’s boyfriend or whatever. He turned his head away and swallowed hard, putting up his walls, closing himself off again. “Kiss me and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.” He didn’t bother looking back. He didn’t want to see the disappointment flash across the kid’s face. He’d realize soon enough that Mickey wasn’t worth sticking around for. Mickey would never be able to be the guy he wanted. Mickey didn’t have a choice in this, they’d never get to be together in the way soulmates are supposed to be. He walked out and joined his dad in the kitchen and he didn’t feel so free anymore. 

***

Of course Mickey couldn’t stay away for long. Neither could Ian for that matter. The kid was falling for him, Mickey could see it, the way his eyes got all soft whenever he looked at him, the way he gave him that dopey smile all the time. Mickey tried to stay indifferent about everything, they were just fucking, it was no big deal, being soulmates didn’t have to mean the had to be husbands or some shit. Maybe soulmates for them meant just fucking. Maybe that’s all it would ever be. Mickey could handle that. He was okay with that. 

Except maybe he was falling for him a little bit too. He didn’t realize when suddenly he had memorized Ian’s work schedule. He didn’t know when suddenly he spent more time in the back room of the Kash ’n’ Grab more than his own house. He couldn’t quite place exactly when he started thinking of Ian when he played certain video games or ate pizza bagels. And he sure as hell had no idea when he started dropping everything to be with him. But apparently that was something he did now. Because Ian Gallagher was standing on his doorstep, a complete wreck, nearly in tears, telling Mickey he _needed_ him. And fuck, Mickey didn’t know what to do, what to say. No one ever needed him. No one ever came to him for comfort. But Mickey wasn’t going to abandon Ian. Somewhere along the line he realized he didn’t like seeing this kid hurt or sad or disappointed. It was tough considering Mickey was great at doing all those things, but he found himself trying harder not to lately. And so, it didn’t surprise him much when he promised to meet him in twenty. 

This time when they fucked, they touched each other more than before. Their fingers grazed over each others’ skin, and for the first time they both acknowledged each others’ tattoos. Ian’s fingers traced over the words on Mickey’s hip, before he tightly gripped his hip and eased himself inside. Mickey’s hand wrapped around Ian’s wrist, his thumb pressing down against the words there. He could feel Ian’s pulse underneath his fingers like a heartbeat. Like the words themselves were pulsing, demanding to be heard, demanding to felt. Mickey wrapped his hand around the bar on the shelf in front of him, and Ian covered it with his own, and for a moment Mickey allowed himself to just _feel_. Maybe they could be more than just fuck buddies. Maybe they could be the kind of soulmates he knew Ian wanted them to be. 

The door banged open and Ian stopped moving. Mickey’s eyes flew open and he turned around. Fucking Kash ’n’ Grab stood in the doorway staring at them. Staring at Ian. Ian stared right back, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Great. Fucking great. Mickey wasted no time getting the fuck out of there. Fuck Ian, fuck towelhead, fuck everything. Mickey wanted to punch something (he did). He was fucked for life. Nothing would ever go right for him. Never. But he wasn’t going to let that fuckhead go running his mouth about what he saw. 

“Fucking right you keep your mouth shut,” he said, grabbing a Snickers bar as he went. “You better keep it shut,” Mickey repeated, enunciating his words, making sure Kash heard him loud and clear. “You hear me?” 

“Put the candy back, Mickey,” Kash said as Mickey unwrapped the candy bar and took a bite. 

“Mhmm, that’s sweet,” Mickey said, taunting Kash. “I like ‘em sweet,” he went on. “But then, uh, so do you, huh?” Mickey laughed and turned around. Fucking pussy. The guy had no balls. Just let everyone walk all over him. Mickey didn’t know what Ian saw in the guy. 

“Put it back,” Kash said, “now.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes. He was so fucking _weak_ —  

A gunshot fired through the air. Mickey jumped as the bullet hit the jars on the far wall, glass shattering and tomato sauce splashing onto the floor. “ _Fuck_ ,” Mickey breathed, eyes going wide. Another shot fired, hitting a bag of chips. Then Ian’s voice was coming from the opposite end of the store. 

“Kash, what are you doing?” 

“It’s a fucking Snickers bar!” Mickey cried, just as Kash turned the gun on him. The guy was a fucking psycho. And then he pulled the trigger and Mickey fell backwards as the bullet pierced his leg. “Fuck!” 

“Holy—shit!” Ian shouted, running over to Mickey in a panic. 

Mickey’s leg was throbbing, the pain excruciating, and Ian was all over him, fretting over him, wrapping one hand around his neck and pulling him close. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he said, and Mickey could feel his wrist against his neck, he could feel his pulse against his own, and he found himself finding comfort in that, he held on to that and somehow the pain slipped away. Ian left before the police got there, but he stayed for the paramedics, and he gave Mickey’s shoulder a squeeze, told him he’d be okay, before he took off running. The police got there soon after, and then he was being carted away to juvie. Fucked for life. He should get _that_ tattooed on him. Seemed to be his motto. Nothing good ever seemed to stick to him. 

***

Ian showed up a few days later. He sat across from Mickey looking wide-eyed and fond as ever. Nothing seemed to drive this kid away. Mickey was kind of glad that Ian was so persistent. He didn’t understand it, but he liked being wanted, even if he couldn’t really admit to any of the feelings he’d been feeling since Ian walked into this life. He did what he knew best, act indifferent, and he was even shit at that. He thanked Ian for putting money in his account, he tried not to stare too much. He couldn’t help it though, there were cracks in his armor, he was weak. The corners of his lips twitched up slightly and then Ian was going all serious, staring at Mickey through his lashes. “How long,” he asked. _How long do I have to wait_. 

Mickey couldn’t look him in the eyes. He didn’t want to think or feel or anything. He already felt like shit being locked up he didn’t want to think about how long. How long without Ian. “I dunno. It’s supposed to be a year, right?” 

Mickey made a show of calling out some dude and shouting about jello, anything to lighten the mood. But then he was turning back to Ian and Ian quietly said, “I…I miss you.”  

_Fuck_. I miss you too. “You say that again I’ll rip your tongueoutta your head.” 

Ian stared at him for a beat, and then his lips were stretching into a wide, dopey grin. The grin that Mickey secretly loved. Mickey hated him so much. He tried to keep his face in check, but his lips quirked up slightly. Stupid fucking Gallagher. 

Ian’s fingers brushed against the glass and no, that was too much. _Seriously, Gallagher, you want me to get killed? People can see that shit._ “Take your hand off the fucking glass.” 

“Oh.” 

And that was that. 

They were soulmates. They were an unlikely pair, but somehow they worked. Despite all odds. Despite the universe throwing so much shit at them. And over the next few years they’d push and pull and tear each other apart and build each other back up. Ian would fuck someone new and doubt and rethink everything and fall back into Mickey’s arms. And Mickey would push Ian away and break his heart and say a fuckton of shit he didn’t mean and eventually find his way back to Ian. They’d lose each other once, seemingly for good, and find each other again. They’d face all odds, they’d face the impossible together.And eventually, Mickey would come to realize that he was exactly what Ian wanted and that he could be the kind of soulmate Ian always dreamed of, the kind that put everything on the line for their love, the kind that wasn’t afraid to be who he was, the kind that chose Ian over everything and everyone. And Ian would come to realize that he was more than just a fuck, more than just a secret. He would realize that he was the center of Mickey’s world, and that Mickey was choosing him just like he was choosing Mickey. Eventually they were going to make it in the end, because they had each other inked in their skin. But neither one knew any of that now. For now, they were separated by a thin sheet of glass, and to them it seemed like the greatest distance imaginable, and both sat doubting whether they’d ever be able to make it. Neither one knew all that was still to come. 

 


End file.
